WRITER'S POV
Anastasia pulled the ring off her finger and threw it onto the floor, anger brewing within her.
"I love you, Theron. I've always loved you, but you never see me. You never see me!" she shouted.
And just like clockwork, she turned and walked through the door, heading outside.
Theron moved to the window, his expression cold and indifferent as he watched her slowly burn beneath the sun.
At first, she seemed to endure it, but as time passed, she let out a loud cry.
Xavian tried to say something, but Draven stopped him. There was no use pleading with the king now.
"Draven..." Theron finally spoke after what felt like forever.
"Yes, sire," Draven answered immediately.
"Bring her up."
Draven nodded, and in no time, Anastasia was back in the room. Half of her face was burned, along with parts of her arms and neck.
Only her legs and feet were unharmed because of her dress.
She was in pain, and that brought great delight to Theron.
"Let this be a warning to anyone who messes with what is mine."
He grabbed her chin aggressively, forcing her to look at him.
"If you pull this stunt again, or make Evania cry, or harm her in any way..." He paused, his eyes hardening. "Burns will be the last thing you should worry about, because you'll be fed to the rogue werewolves."
Anastasia gulped. Fear evident in her eyes.
"Get out of my sight."
His voice was low-too low-and dangerously calm. But they all knew he meant every word he said.
"You can all leave," he said, turning his back to them as he moved toward the window again.
"Yes, my king," Draven and Xavian nodded before leaving the room.
Now, what can I do to make my sweet wife happy? he thought.
~~~~~~~
Theron knocked softly on Evania's door.
"Come in," she said.
"Hey, princess," Theron said with a gentle smile.
Evania looked away. "What do you want?"
"Well, I'd like you to get ready."
Her head snapped back toward him. "Ready? Ready for what?" she asked.
"We're going to Sweetenberg for the Yellow-wich Festival."
~~~~~~~~
The Yellow-Wich Festival was one of Evania's favorite holidays back home.
It was a time when commoners gathered together to celebrate with bonfires, dancing, singing, sweet treats, and tales told beneath the midnight sky.
The night was always magical.
Her family often attended disguised as commoners. Evania had always enjoyed interacting with people when they didn't know who she was.
She had been looking forward to the festival this year, but after her marriage and she moved to another kingdom, she thought she would miss it entirely.
Now she sat inside a carriage beside King Theron, who stared quietly out the window with his chin resting on his hand.
She couldn't understand him.
Why was he doing all this?
The carriage suddenly hit a bump, throwing Evania sideways. Before she could fall completely, Theron caught her and steadied her against him.
"Are you alright? Did you hit anywhere?" he asked, concern evident on his face.
Evania's hands rested against his chest, and she could feel the broadness beneath her palms.
Heat rushed to her cheeks as she quickly pulled away.
"I'm fine, thank you," she murmured.
Theron studied her for a few moments before finally looking away.
"We're here," the coachman announced.
The king stepped out first and held the carriage door open. He extended a hand toward her.
Evania hesitated briefly before taking it.
*****
The festival had already begun.
Children danced around a roaring bonfire, singing songs and clapping happily.
Adults played lively instruments while jesters and magicians performed tricks that filled the crowd with laughter and delight.
"Come. Let's get a better view," Theron said.
He adjusted the hood of her cloak, ensuring it covered more of her face.
Then he took her hand and led her through the crowd.
"Why are you holding my hand?" Evania asked.
"There's a big crowd, and I don't want to lose you."
It was a reasonable explanation.
Children often got separated from their parents during festivals like this. Her mother had always held her hand whenever they attended.
They settled on a wooden bench across from the bonfire and watched the children dance.
A wave of nostalgia washed over Evania.
She used to dance with them when she was younger.
"You're finally smiling," Theron said.
His smile was gentle.
Sincere.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly.
"What, Princess?"
"Being kind to me."
The memory of what his "sister" had told her still lingered in her mind.
Theron tilted his head slightly, the firelight highlighting his sharp, handsome features beneath his hood.
"You think I'm pretending?" he asked.
"Yes. I do."
Her gaze drifted toward a violinist nearby.
"Princess, look at me."
She didn't want to.
But there was something about his voice that made it impossible to ignore.
Slowly, she turned toward him.
"I never pretend when I'm with you. Everything I've done up until now has been genuine. There is no reason to pretend when I'm with the person I like."
He paused, glancing briefly at the flames.
"You may have heard that I'm ruthless, merciless, and a monster. Maybe I was once. But I've changed. And I'm willing to change even more for you."
His eyes met hers.
"I like you, and that's never going to change. I want you to know that you don't have to be afraid of me because I would never hurt you, Evania."
Her breath caught.
The sincerity in his voice made it difficult not to believe him.
"That's... that's going to take some time," she admitted.
A small smile appeared on his lips.
Before she could ask what he was doing, he gently tucked a rose into her hair.
Evania blinked.
She hadn't even seen where he'd gotten it from.
"I'll wait," he said with a wink. "We have our whole lives for me to convince you."
Warmth immediately crept into her cheeks.
"You look adorable when you blush, Princess."
"I'm not blushing!" she protested.
His soft laughter only made her face grow hotter.
Why did he always have this effect on her?
The festival soon reached its peak.
Fireworks exploded across the night sky in brilliant colors, illuminating the smiling faces below.
The music, the dancing, the atmosphere.
Everything felt just like it had when she was younger.
And despite everything, she was glad she had come.
The journey back was slow and peaceful.
The treats they had purchased rested beside them in the carriage, and Evania couldn't stop thinking about how some children had dragged her into their dancing circle earlier.
Throughout it all, she had felt Theron's gaze following her.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Small droplets of rain struck the carriage window.
Soon the light drizzle became a heavy downpour.
"Sire!" the coachman shouted from outside. "I can't continue! The road is becoming too dangerous. The carriage could slip. We'll have to wait until the rain stops before we continue!"
Theron turned toward Evania.
A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Well, Princess," he said, "it seems we're spending the night together."